


What Idle Systems Dream

by Weresnake



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Torture, this is a sad one bois
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-02-18 15:33:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18702445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Weresnake/pseuds/Weresnake
Summary: An au where Cha-Cha and Hazel kidnapped Grace instead and realize what they're peeling apart isn't even human. In the dark moments when shes pulled apart and suffering, Grace finds herself.





	What Idle Systems Dream

**Author's Note:**

> Yay!! vent fic ahoy

The woman was strange, Cha-Cha couldn’t put her finger on it. The expression this person makes as they hauled her into their room looked like genuine confusion, but the eyes were glassy.  


“Is this some sister of theirs?” She asks, looking over at Hazel.  


“Who knows. None of them look related to begin with.” He groans as he takes each agonizing step up the stairs. “She weighs more than she looks, that’s for sure.”  


Cha-cha watches their captives’ eyes flick between the two and hears the muffled noise of talking. Aiming a slap at her head seemed to do the trick, as those dead eyes stared back at her.  


“Don’t speak unless we tell you to.” Cha-Cha snarls at her. “Got it?”  


No response, not even a nod.  


Good.  


The woman didn’t protest when they tied her up, oddly enough. Just the same watching as before, maybe processing what was happening. It reminded Cha-cha the time they caught a Arctic researcher. The utter shock the person was in effectively muted them as two strangers wearing suits marched up to her in the cold void of the arctic and beat her senseless, then haul her into her lab to tie her up. The helpless scientist didn’t utter a word until they traced nonsensical patterns on their skin with red hot metal, watching the skin redden and fizzle into a crisp. It didn’t take long for their target to break out of the mute stupor and tell them everything, begging for it all to stop.  
"Did that scientist think they were aliens, Or something far too explainable even for them?" Hazel asked one night, before they were tasked with this mission.   
"who gives a shit. They're a cold frosty brick of a corpse lying in the ice and they'll stay that way as far as we're concerned, " she spat back.   
"Fair enough." He would respond.  


Hopefully this would be the same. The faster they find their target, the better.  


After Hazel tied up the woman he gestured with his hand to Cha-Cha, “ladies first?”  


She shakes her head but strides forward anyways to rip the tape off her mouth. There was no flinching or sign of pain from her, which only felt like the first red flag of many.  


“What’s your name?” Cha-Cha starts.  


There was a blink, then she tilts her head and gives a polite smile. “I’m Grace, the children’s caretaker.”  


She chewed at her lip. Their mother huh? She doesn't look old enough, or is she referring to some other children they didn't know about?  


“Who’s children?” Hazel addresses their captive.  


Grace’s smile widens but still lacks warmth. “Why the children of Sir Reginald Hargreeves of course! Eccentric billionaire and well-known philanthropist. He-” The mantra ends before it ever began as a fist socks her right across the jaw. Her head bounces to the side from the unexpected force as Hazel howls with pain.  


“Son of a bitch! What is she made of?” He wails as he cradles his hand, his knuckles visibly broken.  


Cha-Cha fishes out the medical kit but halts when she sees how Grace has a concerned expression. Reaching for the bat, she points it under Grace’s chin. “Got something to say for yourself before I do what you did to my friend?”  


“I can help him.” She replies without hesitation. It was beyond confusing, as both her captors stared back.  


"Would you really?" Cha-Cha says mockingly with the same eagerness they're new friend was exhibiting.

"I can and will if you just free my arms. Its my duty to make sure that no one person around me is in any discomfort or pain." Grace presses as she either doesn't notice the mockery or simply doesn't care. Theres a heavy break in the conversation aside from Hazel groaning where Cha-Cha and Grace stare into each others eyes in attempt to read the other.

“Untie her hands only .” Hazel instructs.  


“No, we’re not trusting someone we just caught.” Cha-cha protests.  


“If she makes it worst I’ll just report myself to the commissions infirmary and you get to go ham.” He says as he cuts the rope that keep her arms tied. The minute her upper body's freed Grace reaches her delicate hands out to touch his own, making him jump in surprise. She gives the calloused, broken hand a soft comforting squeeze and starts to list off a grocery list of the things she needs. It takes them a second to process the request as she keeps naming the items, but they scramble for a notepad and pen just as fast to write down the list. Looking over the needed items, Hazel reaches up to scratch his nose with the broken hand but hisses in pain.  


“Go get the supplies and I’ll stick here with her.” He says with gritted teeth.  


Cha-Cha gives him a stern nod and leaves with the note. As the door closes behind her, his gaze swivels back to this “Grace” person.  


“Why the generous offer?” He asks.  


Her eyes look into his and a shiver raises up his spine.  


“Because you are in pain.” She answers with a small smile.  


“Would you still fix my hand if I told you this won’t buy your freedom.” He stalks slowly towards her until he’s looming. Her expression doesn’t change but her head does tilt like before.  


“I don’t quit understand. I’m not here to buy anything.”  


Now that was a head-scratcher. As he pondered what the hell her deal is, he notices her relaxed but perfect posture. Everything about her body spelled ou how at ease she was. Not talking or fidgeting, just sitting and doing what she’s told. The longer they stood in silence, save for the sounds of cars passing by, the more his hand hurt, and a sense of fear developed. Her arms were folded neatly on her lap as she sat like a statue or a doll.  


Come to think of it, she looked exactly like a doll. Dressed in a dated style and blank expression somewhere far away. Now his mind began to wonder what man would ever marry someone so unnerving, or why she chose to dress and behave like she does now.   


“So,” he says internally, keeping himself from getting anymore uneasy. “Just like a doll, we’ll play with her until he’s broken. Then just toss her corpse into a river and be done with it.” Even with the pep talk, his stomach still tied itself in a knot. He didn't like the headgames their captive was already playing.  


God, a donut would make this so much better.

**Author's Note:**

> also grace is a milf don't @ me


End file.
